


Waiting for the End

by oleanderflowers



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood and Injury, Chorus (Red vs. Blue), Gen, Half of this is me trying to figure out what Chorus was like pre war, Horrors of War, I'm putting too much thought into this, Pre Chorus Trilogy, Pre-Canon, War, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oleanderflowers/pseuds/oleanderflowers
Summary: The Federal Army of Chorus and the New Republic have been fighting for a very long time. So long that some have been born into these armies, too young to fight but too old to not be affected. These are the stories of the soldiers on both sides, each being manipulated by some higher power, and the echoes from Chorus's non-war-torn past.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	1. One: The Question of Morality

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first story in this collection. This one focuses on the views of two Feds and three News during a battle. You'll be seeing one of the OCs in this chapter a few more times.
> 
> Anyways, violence and death in this chapter, so prepare to be sad.

Gunshots, explosions, screaming, fire-

 _-War_. Everything that Private Austin Jae is seeing and hearing is perfectly described by that word.

Timbre Square is burning. The New Republic are raiding the place, flushing out the Feds that are stationed there. The Feds had no warning, no idea this attack would happen, so A.J. stands in the streets, firing her nearly-empty gun at any enemy movement.

“A.J! Come on, we gotta get out of here!” calls Scott ( _Private David Scott, age 19, Gun Man_ ), who’s chaingun is held steady in his hands. He motions for her to follow him and she stumbles over, constantly whipping her head back and forth to check for any News. Damn visor proportions, always making it hard to see.

“Captain Donovan gave the order to retreat,” Scott informs her, sounding out of breath. 

“We’re abandoning our outpost?”

“There are too many News and not enough of us. Too many of us are dead and the News have a lot more grenades than they did last time.”

A.J. nods, understanding dawning on her. She and Scott could be the only ones left if they don’t get a move on. She follows Scott as they duck in between burning buildings, most of which are falling apart from the years of war and neglect. 

Gunshots and shouts ring out close by and a group of News rounds the corner, guns sweeping the area in front of them. Scott hisses a curse before A.J. pulls him into the closest building.

“Shit! Did they see us?” Scott whispers, panic lacing his voice. “We gotta get out of here, this building isn’t safe! We have to retreat!” he repeats, aiming his chaingun at the open doorway.

A.J. lifts a hand to her helmet, flipping through the radio channels. “Captain Donovan? Dr. Jameson? Does anyone copy? This is Private Jae and Private Scott. We’re holed up and in need of assistance!”

Much to her despair, all she receives from the radio is static. “Dammit!” she yells, and Scott frantically shushes her.

“What was that?” comes a voice from outside. 

“They must’ve gone into one of these buildings,” answers another. This voice sounds young and nervous.

“No shit, Sherlock,” replies a third, sounding annoyed and bored. 

Moving as slowly as possible, Scott stalks towards the doorway, chaingun held at the ready. “I’m going to try to shoot them,” he whispers to A.J. “They know we’re here.”

She mouths at him to stop, motioning frantically towards one of the broken windows in the room. “Escape,” she whispers, but he shushes her and shifts nervously from foot to foot.

“On three, I’m going to go out there,” Scott informs her as quietly as he can. “I need you to provide cover fire from behind me. I’m counting on you.”

“One.”

A.J. hesitantly moves so she’s standing behind him, ready to fling herself into the doorway after him. There’s only one mag left in her gun, but she’s certain Scott’s chaingun will do enough damage.

“Two.”

_OneTwoThree--just get to three already because the News’ footsteps are getting closer and the only other noise is the crackling fires and her own breathing-_

“Three!” Scott yells, throwing himself into the doorway, but he trips on a round rolling object that definitely hadn’t been there a second ago.

A.J. registers that it’s a grenade when one of the News exclaims, “Nice throw!” She shouts a warning and grabs Scott’s arm, hauling him up. The room is too tiny and there’s nowhere to run, so she instead lunges towards the broken window and pushes Scott up against it.

She shields his body with hers, shoving him, trying to push him out the window. “Go go go!” she yells. Scott’s chaingun is left on the floor and he’s in shock.

He finally gets the message and allows himself to be pushed through the window, his white and red armor scraping against the broken glass. He tumbles out the other side but quickly stands back up, moving to help A.J. out.

It’s too late.

The last thing A.J. sees is Scott’s hand reaching for her before an explosion rocks the building and she’s plunged into darkness.

* * *

Once the smoke and dust clears, Privates Kal, Bitters, and Palomo get a great view of the building reduced to rubble. 

“Huh. I guess it wasn’t stable at all,” Palomo observes, shrugging. “I don’t think those Feds survived that. Good thing you threw that grenade when you did, Bitters.” He begins walking towards the rubble, looking to see if his theory is correct.

Kal steps forward, holding an arm out to stop him. “Wait. They might still be alive. We didn’t see anything, after all.”

As if on cue, a white suit of armor—well, it’s more grey and brown from dust by now—stumbles into the remains of the building, crying out. The figure leans down besides something, though all Kal can see is rubble. 

“Gun Man,” Bitters informs them. “But he’s got no gun.”

The Fed soldier turns, noticing them, and stiffens. “Uh oh,” Palomo says quietly as the Fed starts frantically digging through the rubble. His hands come up with a gun, not a usual G-Man gun, but a gun nonetheless.

“You bastards! Look what you did!” The Fed’s voice is raw and it keeps cracking, full of emotion. A ragged cry tears from his throat as he pushes himself off the ground and fires the gun.

Kal shoves Palomo down as Bitters takes aim and shoots the Fed, who falls to the ground with a thud. “I think… I think he’s dead now,” Palomo breathes, standing up.

It isn’t until a panicked scream fills the air that the three News realize there’s someone else. Another body lays next to the original Fed’s, this one half covered by rubble.

Kal creeps close, picking through the debris until she can get a better view of the body. A Fed is laying there, her right arm and leg completely buried. There’s rubble strewn about her armor and even a few pieces of wood sticking out of her undersuit. Her small visor is completely shattered, revealing a mess of blood and glass on her face.

What’s worse is that from what Kal can see, the Fed looks like she’s only a year or two older than her. Kal’s never really thought about there being younger people on the Feds side, too, but now she’s looking at the bloodied face of a dying teenager. The half-dead Fed is breathing heavily, making small noises of pain every few seconds.

“Scott, you need to get back up. We need to go, Julie’s expecting me and so’s everyone else. You need to take me to Dr. Grey and Dr. Jameson! You need to help me find my leg, Davey. I can’t feel it and my face— it _hurts! Get up David, get up!_ ” the Fed cries, unlatching her helmet with her one free arm, screaming when it pushes against the glass embedded in her face. 

“Holy shit,” Kal mutters, one hand pressed to her helmet. Bitters and Palomo sidle up beside her and Palomo gasps.

Together, they move to where they’re standing around the Fed, looking down at her. She reaches one more time towards the G-Man’s body before looking up at the News. One of her eyes is full of glass shards slick with blood.

The Fed’s non-ruined eye fixates on Kal’s helmet and an odd calamity seems to fall over her. “Make it quick,” she pleads, voice now steady, full of understanding.

Kal feels sick to her stomach when she looks at the Fed’s wounds. Palomo stumbles back behind her, fiddling with his helmet like he needs to take it off. All Bitters can say is, “Jesus” and Kal knows he feels the same way she does.

Kal has never before had someone ask her to kill them. Sure, the Feds are the enemies and she doesn’t think about killing them in battle, but this… this is new. The Fed soldier can’t be older than seventeen but she’s asking for her life to end.

It’s been an age old question amongst the younger News. _Can you shoot someone?_ The answer is yes, but of course there’s trauma and regret to come from it. However, it’s much easier to end one’s life when all you can see is an angular white helmet instead of a face.

“She’s going to die either way. As much as I hate to say it, we… might as well…” Bitters trails off and takes a deep breath. “You two leave. I don’t want to make you guys have to do it.”

He’s right. Kal knows that deep inside, so she shakily walks over to Palomo and prepares to leave. She really doesn’t want this to happen, and some sick part of her is telling her to let the Fed suffer, but she knows it’s the right thing to do.

The Fed speaks again, voice still eerily calm. “Austin Jae. Private,” she states, and it takes Kal a moment to realize that she just told her what her name is. Private Jae then motions weakly with her head towards the G-Man’s body. “David Scott.”

She wants her and her friend to be remembered.

As Kal and Palomo start walking away, they hear Bitters respond in a low voice: “Antoine Bitters. Charles Palomo, Kal Spencer.” 

Private Jae gives half a smile, though it’s mostly hidden by the helmet and the blood. The last thing Kal hears her say is, “Make it quick, Antoine Bitters.”

And he pulls the trigger.

He returns to Palomo and Kal, saying nothing, and the three walk away together. Kal realizes that she’s never going to forget that. She’ll never forget Austin Jae asking to be killed, never forget her bloody face. 

Kal Spencer is fifteen and a soldier all the same, yet today she has seen that the other side is just as young as she is. Today she continues to live through the horrors and think, always thinking, because maybe the Feds aren’t too different from herself.

She doesn't sleep that night.


	2. Two: No That Ain't a Rainbow, Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tess Wright has been in the Federal Army of Chorus since she was young. So many things have changed since the start of the war, and she often finds herself wondering how things got this bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the next story! This one is OC focused because there aren't enough established Fed characters. Warning for discussions of death and sort of depressing thoughts.

Tess Wright remembers a life before the war. The memories of peace are faint and fading, but she holds onto them with everything she can. Things were nice back then, when she was five years old and didn’t have to worry about anything. Then things start exploding and everything goes wrong so quickly that Tess doesn’t have time to understand what’s happening.

Now she’s twenty-two and a soldier of the Federal Army of Chorus. There are no more shops, no more restaurants, nothing. The few lucky ( _or unlucky, depending on their situation_ ) souls that are still civilians are dwindling away. Where has the wildlife gone? Why is the clean water and food supplies going down with every day? That’s war, she figures.

Unlike her, Rey Bridger cannot remember life before the war. Whether that be because they were too young to remember anything or if they were born into the war, Tess isn’t sure. Once you get old enough to fight, age isn’t always brought up that often anymore.

Bridger is a good kid. They and Tess have become friends over the years, and their friendship is one of the only ones that wasn’t ended by a bullet only a few weeks after it started. 

All in all, Bridger _looks_ young, maybe in their late teens. And what scares Tess sometimes is that some of the News look just as short and scraggly as Bridger. Of course, she can’t definitely tell anything about someone when they’re in full armor, but there’s something about those News that she knows is different.

They’re children, and children should not be on a battlefield.

But who is the Federal Army to judge? They moved their required age of joining the fight down to sixteen (though there are rumors the News have the age at fifteen). They can’t help when a child gets caught in the crossfire because a base is being overrun. 

There were once nurseries for both sides. Schools, too, and anywhere that they could keep children safe. Both sides had agreed that schools and hospitals and other important sheltering places would not be harmed. However, only a few years into the war, a Fed nursery mysteriously blew up. And then another, and another, until there were none left. (Tess still can’t understand why the News would do something like that.) It’s worth mentioning that the News’ nurseries and schools disappeared, too, but who’s to say if they just moved them?

So now children are kept in the bases deep in Fed territory, bases that hopefully no one would attack. It’s a surprise that both armies have gotten a hold of armor small enough to at least fit a teenager, but Tess doesn’t exactly question that anymore.

She walks into the mess hall of F.A.C Outpost Thirty-Seven and is surprised by the small number of people. It’s a rude wake up call to see how few are left nowadays, heads bowed in grief. It may seem that the Federal Army has the advantage with better equipment or supplies, but in truth, they’re struggling just as much as the News.

There’s a pang in her heart when she realizes the regular group of teenagers are missing. A.J., Scott, Johnson, and Silas used to sit there. Now there’s only Julie and Arien sitting there in a puddle of remorse.

Their loss of Timbre Square had been devastating, but reports say it was too destroyed for the News to do anything with it. Too many broken down buildings and debris. So that’s good, Tess guesses.

It’s hard to see the good things in wartime. Tess tries her damn hardest because someone has to cheer up the others and show the younger kids that things can get better. Maybe not right now, but the war is going to end one day, and she sure as hell hopes those kids will get to see victory. She doesn’t care if she herself does, dreams of law school or teaching crumbling like her home after the first bombs started going off. 

Some of the youngest kids she’s seen are able to block off the trauma of war and respond to everyone’s pain with love. They don’t understand yet, but they return what they are given, even when their family or someone they care about doesn’t come back to base one day. The older kids are the ones Tess fears for the most, because she doesn’t want them growing up with the horrors she has. There’s no choice, though, and it’s hard to console a teenager when they break down after killing someone or losing a friend.

This war is hell. That fact is sharp and clear to every being on this planet, yet every attempted peace talk ends with a bullet, or poison, or a knife. Every ship they send out to get help is shot out of the sky before it can get higher than any of the alien temples. It was different at the very beginning of the war; ships could come and go as they pleased, but it only took a few years before the shoot-downs started happening.

Another question haunts the back of Tess’s mind on late nights and long patrols. Does her life matter anymore? Does anyone’s? What are they really fighting for? Yes, she knows the government system they had was broken, but the Feds are trying their hardest to fix it. She agrees with the News’ views, per say, but not how they go about proving their points. But at the end of the war, will anyone matter?

And then, of course, comes the problem with the mercenaries. It’s funny how things work out sometimes, with the News receiving a mercenary right after the Feds, two people willing to brave the war for nothing but busted alien weaponry. Locus has been with the Federal Army for many years now, and his imposing presence is enough to make even the oldest soldiers uneasy. 

However, Locus is on a contract, the same one he was on with the last general, and the general before that, so on and so on. So he stays with the Federal Army even when the only thing they can pay him with is otherwise-useless weaponry and half-baked promises.

Tess has worked with Locus plenty of times before. He’s not mean, not cruel, just cold and calculating. He’s obviously a soldier, and Tess has heard rumors about him fighting in the Great War (coincidentally with the News’ mercenary; apparently the two are old enemies). But there is always a feeling of wariness that she can’t shake, something not quite right.

He’s not leaving anytime soon, though, and Tess has to be thankful for that. Locus has provided support and supplies. Some of the youngest kids look up to him, see him as a hero, and Tess can’t tell them otherwise. She only hopes that he stays until the war ends.

But who knows what tomorrow will bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter name from the song "The Devil is my Running Mate" by Jason Isbell, which is a huge Chorus song. The lines of "No that ain't a rainbow, son. It's streetlamps on petroleum. Let's pull in here and get us some, supplies are running out now" very much fits with how horrible the war is. Additionally, there is some inspiration taken from the poem "In the Exclusion Zone" by Melanie Rae Thon.
> 
> A lot of this chapter is rambling and meta because I have a lot of feelings about Chorus. The topic of nurseries, fighting age, and all that stuff has been discussed by my sister and I many times. I'm guessing Chorus has some sort of Geneva Convention style thing that both sides agreed to follow, but once Felix and Locus got involved, the Convention was broken. So uh yeah. Credit to falsedittany, my sister, cause she's a part of this too in a way.
> 
> A lot of the meta/world-building chapters are going to be shorter, but there will be the occasional longer one. Also, quick reminder: because of the different POVs, the News or Feds will be painted in negative light depending on who's view it is from. I like both sides and do not favor one over the other, so the views of the characters do not reflect my own. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed! Next chapter will be more focused on the New Republic and world building wildlife-wise, the one after that will be the view of civilians who haven't joined the armies. Yeehaw!


	3. Three: Evidence for Whoever Comes After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A New Republic soldier is on a supply run when he comes across an old book in the rubble of a building. It opens up his mind to the life on Chorus and brings up some important questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, some world-building for you :)

Kestin Guadagnoli is out on a supply run one day when he comes across the remains of a study. It’s nestled in the debris of a house plagued by bombs, but the things found in the study itself are surprisingly intact. Case in point: the collection of books and maps he just found.

The first book that catches his eye is covered in dirt. When he brushes it off, he finds the title engraved in gold paint. “ _ Common Wildlife of the Main Continent of Chorus _ ” it reads, and he opens to a random page to see what’s inside. He has some time; might as well satisfy his curiosity.

_Tap Fish - a species of fish found in the warmer bodies of water around Chorus. They travel in large schools and are usually more than a foot long. The usual color of their scales ranges from blue to green. They’re natural predators and often prey upon smaller species of fish and occasionally each other._

The words on the page he opens to are interrupted by a drawing and a picture of said fish. Both feature a long, spindly fish with large eyes and an even larger mouth. There are soft looking spines protruding from the fish’s back and head. One is colored a bright aquamarine while the other takes a pale green look. Kestin hums and runs his finger over the picture, smiling when he realizes he’s seen one of these before. Such a long time ago, while moving bases in the forest. With a content smile, he turns the page over and keeps reading. 

_Lisgator - a long, green reptile that takes up habitat in the Forte Jungle and warm, freshwater bodies of water. They can be dangerous to humans and are at the top of the food chain in most areas. They can grow up to be six feet long and have two rows of teeth in their mouths._

Kestin has never met one of those, and he hopes he won’t ever do so. Come to think of it, he doesn’t see a lot of wildlife anymore. Sure, there are the Saw Bats around the caves and small rodents and bugs, but a lot of the larger animals and livestock have either moved or been killed. He frowns and flips to another page.

_Montcat - A small feline creature that has been domesticated throughout the years. Their fur ranges from short to very long and has different textures depending on the breed and where they live. It is very common for a Montcat to have two tails and seven toes on their large paws._

One of the pictures of said animal is quite hilarious to Kestin. The photo shows what looks like a giant puffball with two tails and a head sticking from it. He can’t even make out the Montcat’s legs.

He remembers his friend Ananya talking about the Montcat she owned before the war. She still has pictures of the little feline, though hers was a lot less fluffy than the Montcat in the picture. Kestin smiles slightly and goes to read more on the page.

_Montcats prey on small rodents and birds but are not afraid to attack something larger than them. They have enhanced senses and can run up to 45 mp-_

The rest of the paragraph is smudged with ink and dirt, but there’s an additional note scrawled into the corner in messy handwriting saying, “ _Tip: If you have one of these cute little abominations, don’t let them out at night. Who knows what the fuck they get into. One time Echo came back with a whole ass Railsor leg in his mouth. Y’all’d’ve not believed it, but it’s true._ ” It’s surprising to see commentary from whoever owned this book, a little bit of personal history saved away within the old pages.

Kestin moves to turn the page when the radio in his helmet goes off. The helmet in question is set on the ground next to him, so he moves the book to one hand and scoops up his tan and aquamarine helmet. It seals shut over his head and he presses the outside auditory filter to hear better.

“Hey Kess, you almost done? We’ve got the food and stuff. Where are you?” Jaeden asks, his voice filtering through the radio. He’s another part of the small supply run team going through the outskirts of Melodia, one of the biggest cities outside of Armonia. It’s far enough away from the capital that there usually aren’t any Feds around, so it’s a perfect supply place for the News.

“I’ll be there soon. I’m just finishing up here,” Kestin explains, looking down at the book in his hand. “Give me a couple minutes.”

“Yep! Just don’t be too long. Lee says she has a feeling that something’s going to happen, and she’s always right about that stuff.”

Kestin frowns and lets out a small sigh. “Okay, okay. I won’t be long, I promise.”

Jaeden cuts off his radio and Kestin reopens the book. He figures that he has about five or so minutes before he should head back. It’s not like he can’t take the book with him, so he’ll just look through one or two more things before leaving.

He narrows down his interests in the book to two things: the previously mentioned Railsor and a peek into the back of the book, the part about some special uncommon creatures. 

He goes to the table of contents and runs his finger down the page until he comes across the world “Railsor”. He flips to the assigned page and starts reading, bringing the book closer to his face so he can see it through the visor.

_Railsor - These big four legged creatures frequent the woods, whether it be deep in the wild or behind your house. They have sharp teeth for tearing through branches and are omnivores. They mainly eat plants and trees, though have been known to occasionally attack smaller animals. If you were to find one, it usually would not attack. However, during their mating season, the Railsors are often more aggressive. There have been several recorded Railsor attacks over the years._

_Railsors have small hooves and short fur that will grow longer during the colder seasons. There have been multiple sightings of Railsors standing and walking around on their back legs, so there’s speculation that they might be able to function on two legs. Perhaps evolution is causing them to do so._

And what would that evolution be for? Maybe the Railsors had to adapt as humans did. But it doesn’t really matter now. Kestin hasn’t seen a Railsor his entire life. He hasn’t seen half of the animals in this book, a book about “common” creatures. Has the war really driven everything away? Where did the animals go? On a slightly lighter note, Railsors look fucking terrifying.

He sighs and turns to the back of the book for one final look, seeking out the section of rare animals. He passes pages of bizarre creatures he hasn’t even dreamed of. There are animals who live in lava, who are alien in origin, or have some other amazing feature that makes him want to go back in time or go on a huge quest to see them. 

For now, though, he has to get back to the others, so he slips the book into the bag he brought along for supplies and starts making his way to his friends. He rendezvous with the others in short time, smiling at the almost tangible excitement from having a successful supply run. 

On the ride back to HQ, he shows Jaeden and Lee the book he found, and they laugh about the Montcat and the previous owner’s notes. “I want one of those,” he tells them, and Lee knocks her fist against his visor.

“After this is over, you should study animals. Make a new book,” she suggests, and he grins. He might just have to do that. 

“Why wait?” He has a notebook in the barracks, after all. “Will you two help?”

Jaeden shrugs. “Sure, why not. Somethin’ fun to do in all this.”

Something good out of the bad, Kestin muses. And maybe, just maybe, he can one day go out looking for new animals. See what has changed since the book he found was made. If he ever finds the original owner of the book, then he will certainly share his ideas. 

Perhaps life will grant him that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it took me a very long time to come up with just a few animals... how do big sci-fi things do that? Anyways, I'm thinking of actually making a guide to the wildlife on Chorus that people can use and/or add to! Most of the animals are "what if I took regular animals and made them kind of terrifying" and there we go.
> 
> Credit to falsedittany for telling me that Chorusans say "y'all'd've" and things like that. Next chapter will be focused on civilians and then we'll get to some canon characters such as Cunningham, Rogers, McCallister, G-Man, and some others.
> 
> The Strider mob from Mainecraft totally exists on Chorus, you can't change my mind.
> 
> Am I naming side characters after my classmates and friends? I guess we'll never know.


	4. Four: The Oath We Hold So Dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A medic from the New Republic stumbles across an injured Fed in the aftermaths of a battle.
> 
> Warning for injury and discussions of death.

There are lines running through Vaughn’s head that they must never forget.  _ First do no harm _ . It’s what they’ve stuck in their head since deciding that they wanted to be a doctor, or a medic, or anyone that could help save a life in this war. It is what’s repeated during and after a battle, when medpacks are far from the most important things they hold in their hands.

The smoke has cleared after a small but deadly skirmish, revealing the New Republic as the winners. They didn’t win much, though; all it had been was a clash of two patrols. The Fed patrol wasn’t supposed to be that far out, but they came across the News’ nonetheless, and a firefight had broken out. Though the Feds had the element of surprise, the News were closer to home and were able to get backup. 

Vaughn had been with the patrol since the beginning and had participated in the fight, pistol in one hand and their medical scanner in the other. They’d pulled Ari out of combat when she’d been hit and shot at the Feds right alongside Volleyball, Jensen, and the others. Now they made rounds among the wounded, filling up wounds with biofoam and giving the more critically injured to the experienced medic that had come with the backup.

Vaughn hears their name be called and turns to see Jensen waving them over. She’s kneeling by Trevor, who had been shot in the leg. Vaughn quickly makes their way over to the two, unclipping a new biofoam canister from their belt just in case Trevor’s wound has been opened up again. 

“What’s wrong?” they inquire, coming to a stop next to Jensen.

Trevor fixes them with an unimpressed glance. “Why do you always assume something’s wrong?”

“Well, you got shot in the leg, for starters. Besides, when you’re a medic, you learn to expect the worst after battles.”

Trevor rolls his eyes, but Jensen places a hand on his arm and smiles up at Vaughn. “Trevor said he lost his lucky gun in the scuffle, can you go find it?”

“I’m a medic. I have more important things to do than go searching for his lucky gun.”

Trevor scoffs slightly. “Yeah, well, let the more experienced medics finish up, eh, kid?”

“Please?” Jensen adds.

“Fine,” Vaughn sighs. “Only because Jensen asked me. And don’t call me a kid, Trev. You’re not that much older than me.”

“Whatever. Just please go find it.” Trevor points to the rubble and half formed walls strewn around the area.

Vaughn straightens up and nods, leaving with another heavy sigh. They follow Trevor’s directions and starts scanning the rubble for any signs of Trevor’s rifle, because of course they have to go looking for his fucking gun. Oh, the things Vaughn puts up with for this army.

They stray from the others, frowning at the bodies that are still strewn about. Most of said bodies are Feds, as the deceased News have already been moved. No one’s going to just leave the Fed bodies there; they might be on different sides, but the bodies deserve some semblance of respect after death. It still feels weird seeing all of the white-armored bodies lying where they fell, limbs splayed out or slumped against something.

Vaughn shakes their head and sighs, reminding themself to stay focused. But how the hell are they supposed to find Trevor’s gun when there are guns abandoned everywhere? The tan and blue paint that Trevor decorated his gun with isn’t that bright or noticeable, so Vaughn’s tempted to just go back and say they couldn’t find it.

However, they keep on walking, keep on picking up every discarded gun they find to check if it’s Trevor’s. Eventually, they can’t see the rest of the group anymore, and they’re about to give up when they swear they see movement in the corner of their vision.

Vaughn whips around, raising their medical pistol, and doesn’t see anything moving. Instead, all they see is an armored figure propped up against a half wall, looking pretty damn dead. That is, until the figure’s head moves to the side.

Well, fuck. Vaughn had seen all of the surviving Feds flee, yet here’s one whose armor is streaked with red. The Fed doesn’t seem to notice them yet, but it’s obvious that he’s hurt. And left behind, by the looks of it.

Vaughn takes a tentative step forward, and the Fed’s helmet whips towards them, the Fed’s hands suddenly moving away from his wound and pressing against the wall he’s slumped against. He doesn’t make a noise, instead just staring at Vaughn with that cycloptic visor. He’s an enemy, could be a threat, and yet Vaughn doesn’t know what to do.

_ First, do no harm. _

“Uh, hey,” Vaughn starts, because they’ve never talked to a Fed before and what else are they supposed to say?

The Fed raises his hands. “Don’t shoot,” he says, his voice shaky. “Please, I - I’m unarmed, I won’t try anything, I promise.” A wet cough racks his frame and he curls in on himself, hands going back to the red spreading across his chest. Looks like the Fed armor isn’t as tough as most of Vaughn’s teammates say it is.

“I won’t shoot you,” Vaughn replies, but they can’t promise that. This is a Fed, goddamnit. Someone who could’ve killed Kolton or shot Trevor. Who knows how much blood this man has on his hands. But-

_ First, do no harm. _

“Why are you here?”

“I- everyone thought I was dead, my radio’s broken and I couldn’t get away,” the Fed explains in a rushed voice. “It’s just me, I swear. Everyone else is dead or gone.”

‘ _ And why should I trust you? _ ’ Vaughn wants to ask, but instead they approach the Fed further. They keep their medical pistol raised, just in case, but they stop in front of the Fed. 

“I-if you’re going to shoot me, please make it quick,” the Fed adds. 

Vaughn sighs, curses themself for that damn oath, and kneels down next to the Fed. They reach out and pry his hands away from his chest. There’s a bullet hole there, blood trickling down the white and black bodysuit. They prod along the wound, towards the Fed’s ribcage, and the wince tells that a rib might be broken. 

“Can you take off your helmet?” they inquire, and the Fed obliges, revealing a panicked face. It’s hard to remember that there are people under those white helmets, so Vaughn ignores that and turns their attention back to the wound. “Were you hit anywhere else?”

The Fed shakes his head. “No,” he starts, before pausing. “Why are you helping me?” The question is quiet, a jumble of words that Vaughn almost doesn’t catch.

“First, do no harm,” they recite, quicker than they meant to. 

“What?”

“The Hippocratic Oath. You know, the things doctors take?”

“But you’re a New. I’m a Fed.”

“Great observation skills,” Vaughn snipes. “Listen, you’re injured enough to not go anywhere but not enough to be in immediate danger. Leaving you here to die would be inhumane, and some of us have morals.”

The Fed cringes as Vaughn fills up the wound with biofoam. “Oh,” he says after a moment, “then are you going to take me prisoner?”

Vaughn scoffs. “You think we have the supplies to keep prisoners of war? Funny.” A second after, they curse themself again. They’re not supposed to go spouting out how the New Republic is doing to an enemy, after all.

“Huh, neither do we.”

Now it’s Vaughn’s turn to be surprised. “Wait, really? How the hell do you have invisibility enhancements and hard light shields but not the supplies for that?”

The Fed turns his head away. “How do you have secret bases that we still can’t find and not the supplies for that, huh?”

“Because you guys are taking all of the things.” Well, at least the Federal Army doesn’t know the New Republic’s headquarters. Unless the man’s lying, but still. 

The Fed huffs and shifts slightly, making a movement like he’s going to cross his arms across his chest before remembering that there’s a canister of biofoam doing its magic there. He falls silent, nervously tapping his fingers against the wall behind him. 

Eventually, Vaughn leans back, taking the canister with them. “There. That’s the best I can do for you.” Bandaging the wound would take too much time and effort. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah, uh, I think so.” 

“Good. Get up and go. I bet you can make it back to your buddies before we start patrolling again, so now’s your chance,” they explain. 

The Fed nods and pushes himself up. Vaughn steadies him on instinct when he stumbles. He flinches from the touch, looking at Vaughn like they’re going to kill him, before nodding slightly in thanks. He takes a step forward, hunched in on himself and one hand pressed against his injured side, hissing underneath his breath.

“Hurry up.”

“I’m trying my best!” he snaps, quickening his pace. 

Vaughn sighs. “Just get out of here. I don’t want to see you again. And don’t make me regret helping you!”

The Fed turns back to look at them and pauses his walk. “Thank you, for helping me. I… didn’t think you would. I promise you won’t see me after this.” He adds a small smile and goes back to shuffling away.

Vaughn watches him go, staring at the spot where he disappears into the treeline. “Yeah, you’re welcome,” they murmur well after the Fed leaves.

They stand there for a moment before turning back from where they came. Their mind races, because they followed the oath, they saved a life, but… what if their actions of saving that man’s life leads to the death of one of their friends? What if that man goes and kills a New in the next skirmish? What if Jensen dies because of them, or Volleyball, or Trevor, or anyone?

They can’t think of that right now, can’t question what’s already done. So they practically jog back, throwing aside the now empty canister of biofoam, and tries to ignore the rising anxiety.

And goddamnit, they didn’t even find Trevor’s gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four was supposed to be Matthews's backstory and insight on civilians before they all got caught up in the war but this idea wouldn't leave me alone, so alas. This was supposed to be chapter six, darnit. Anyways, expect the aforementioned story and a chapter about New Republic Green Team soon.
> 
> Honestly, this was such an interesting idea to explore. Instead of a situation similar to the first chapter, the main character here is forced to either help their enemy or leave him. Either choice would be justifiable, really. It'd be hard to look at someone who could have killed you friends and give them assistance. Especially with Vaughn's character and the influence of the oath, this chapter sure was fun. (Also, I promise I'll write a chapter solely about canon characters soon.)
> 
> If you noticed, this was in a series for about a day. My sister was going to contribute to this series, but then she deleted her Ao3 account, so huh. And apologies for the lack of updates with all my fics, I've felt very disconnected with the fandom lately due to the overwhelming negativity for RvB Zero, which I really enjoyed. So yeah. Yeehaw.

**Author's Note:**

> These ideas have been piling up in my head for a long time. There's not a lot of stuff about Chorus from the Feds perspective, so there will be a lot of Fed based stories in this collection. They need some more love. Hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> Come talk to me at my tumblr, oleander-rookie!


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